Miranda
arose from her uncomfortable kneeling position on the hard stone floor of her
cell and turned to face the man who was to kill her the next day.She hadn't been praying...she never prayed,
neither to God nor Satan, but she knew that humans prayed at times such as this
and she emulated them well.

Miranda was a witch.She was neither good nor evil, she just was
what she was.She'd never joined a
coven nor sold her soul to be a witch; she was simply born that way, as was her
mother and grandmother before her.She
was one of the immortals who walked the earth, never staying in one place for
too many years, lest her eternal youthful appearance cast suspicion.

Miranda had been alive for nearly two
centuries, yet she looked no older than a girl of twenty.With any luck tomorrow she would continue to
look the same for at least two more centuries, maybe three before the changes
of middle age set in.

Ancient though she was by mortal years,
Miranda was considered still very young by others of her kind, who also
considered her to be headstrong and somewhat impulsive. The Council of Elders
was always reprimanding her for what they called "her foolish
behavior".

Miranda knew that mortals were the foolish
ones; their ridiculous fear of witches was an example.Witches resembled mortals in many ways--they
just happened to be born with the ability to draw power from the elements as
well as living things.Whatever had
started the rumors that witches were evil had endured since way before she was
born.If they only knew the
truth....witches were forbidden to use their abilities to harm the mortals they
shared the earth with, except maybe under the most dire of circumstances, and
even then it was frowned upon by the Elders.

As she now stood facing her executioner
she maintained the warm smile that had startled him when he opened the cell
door, but she wasn't quite as fearless as she appeared.She knew all about Samuel Ruark and his
cruel perversions, and she knew why he was here.The thought filled her with apprehension and loathing....but she
needed him.

"I've come for what's mine,
witch" he now declared having forgotten his momentary unease.His eyes crudely travelled over her soft
feminine curves,the sight reawakening
his lust with new vigor.

"Indeed...?" Miranda replied,
raising her chin in a deliberate haughty manner, "and what is there in
this cell that you consider yours?"

She feared what she had to unleash by this
behavior, but it was necessary.

Samuel chuckled, apparently not perturbed
at all by her insolence.

"You...., witch" he replied with
a leer as he closed the distance between them in a leisurely way.He was in no hurry and her attitude secretly
delighted him.Most of the
"witches" he took his rights with were already broken by their
earlier tortures and their terror of what awaited them.This one's manner gave the impression that
the room she stood in wasn't a cell but a grand home, and she the mistress of
it.Breaking her therefore, would be
all the sweeter.He grinned in sadistic
anticipation ofhow badly he was going
to debase her...much worse than any of the others.This one was special; she deserved special treatment.

"Cooperate with me," he said in
a mockingly wheedling tone, "and I'll try to make things easier for you
tomorrow".

It was a lie of course.He often offered such a "deal" to
his charges, and most of them pathetically agreed, desperate to please him so
that he might at least shorten thier horrifying ordeal the next day.They would whore themselves, doing whatever
he wanted only to find out too late the full measure of his cruelty, for the
next day he would make it a point to burn them even slower, grinning at them
wickedly thru the heat haze as they suffered for hours sometimes.

"Ha!", Miranda scoffed,
"what an absurd bargain!As if
burning alive can be made easier!"

Her refusal to cringe or grovel both
enraged and excited Samuel even further, and in one fluid movement he seized
her in a beastly grip, bruising her delicate arms as he pulled her to himself
violently, nearly crushing her lips to his in a brutal kiss.

Miranda tried to brace herself for what
was to come.She enjoyed sex with
humans as a rule, and for more reasons than physical pleasure.Humans had no idea how much raw and
explosive power they generated with their sexuality, and how much magic was
contained in the sex act itself; the spark that sometimes created life was only
a small portion of that power, awesome as that was alone.When Miranda tapped into that power during
sex with one of her human lovers it always filled her with such an
overabundance of pure joyous magic that she was unable to sleep for days and
felt she could do anything....anything at all.The more passionate the encounter, the greater the magic.

This encounter however was going to be
violent, the power source much darker and twisted than she'd ever tapped into
before and it made her nervous.She
felt the waves of evil from this man as he released his grip on one of her arms
to squeeze her breasts painfully while his lips moved to her neck, sucking and
biting savagely.

She was terrified of the power she must
tap into...she could tell already that it was black and horrible and much worse
than she'd thought.Panic and revulsion
caused her to struggle briefly against this evil being intent on taking
her.She needed this to happen of
course...she needed every bit of dark power she could draw into herself, but it
was easier to accept in theory.In
reality she was shuddering at the sheer horror that was this man.

Samuel laughed at her struggles then
slapped her hard across her face, causing her to fall to the stone floor with a
cry, blood trickling from her nose.Instantly he was upon her, tearing her already-torn gown from her body,
easily forcing her legs apart while releasing an erection that had been
painfully straining his trousers.

"NO NO!!! DON'T PUT IT IN ME!!!"
Miranda suddenly screamed.Samuel, of
course thought that she meant his pride and joy--nine inches of pride in
fact.He always loved their reaction to
it, and their screams when he used it to inflict pain.He had no way of knowing what Miranda's
panic was really about--how she already felt nearly suffocated with the evil
energy he generated.Knowing she was
going to take this evil into herself was more frightening than she'd imagined.

Laughing at her sudden panic, Samuel
brutally shoved himself forward, powerfully invading the velvety warmth of her
womanhood, thrilling to her pained screams that shook her whole body.

Once firmly entrenched inside her, Samuel,
lost in his own sickness and evil lust, eagerly set about punishing his
captured prize with long hard strokes, increasing the speed and brutality of
his attack in proportion to her pain.He wasn't punishing her for being a witch, or for any wrongdoing she may
have been accused of; he was punishing her for being young, delicately
beautiful and most of all, female.

"You should try to enjoy this,"
he panted at one point, "for tomorrow you will burn....your lovely flesh
will be ashes and you'll never enjoy another man.You should be thanking me!"

This was his favorite part, taunting his
victims about their horrible impending death.He would often go into great detail of how they would burn, loving their
sobs of terror and pleas to be spared.

Miranda didn't plead, but she was sobbing
hysterically as she endured his cruelty and absorbed the power she was drawing
from him.Her tears weren't for herself
but for all the innocents before her; she could feel the agony and despair of
all of them...could hear the wails of each each and every one inside her head,
and she feared it would drive her mad.

Much later, after Samuel had plundered and
used every useful orifice on her body, he was unlocking the cell door to leave,
quite satisfied and looking forward to a good night's sleep, when he heard her
call his name softly.He looked back at
her, gratified at the sight.She was
still sprawled on the floor, mostly naked, bruised, torn and bleeding, raising
herself painfully on one elbow while she groped for the scraps ofher gown in a pathetic attempt to cover
herself.

"Yes, my love?" he responded
mockingly.

"I hope you enjoyed that,
Samuel", she said in a shaking but calm voice, "It may be your last
time as well."

At first Samuel was stunned and angry that
the bitch would use his own line against him, but then decided she must have
lost her mind.He'd seen it before;
sometimes they just snapped.

"Sure, witch-slut....whatever you
say" he grinned, then left, locking the door behind him.

As he made his way back to his home,
whistling a cheery tune, Samuel was struck with a momentary chill, then
shrugged it off and thought about how much he'd enjoyed his latest
conquestand how much he was going to
enjoy watching her burn the next day.It seemed almost a shame to destroy such prime flesh.....almost.He could hardly wait.